


Bachelors of Some Renown

by Skud



Category: Georgette Heyer
Genre: Humour, M/M, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-05
Updated: 2005-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:46:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skud/pseuds/Skud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ferdy and Gil are bachelors of some renown.  Not the marrying kind -- surprisingly adept at interior decoration -- and always in each other's company.  What <i>was</i> Miss Heyer thinking, to write something so blatant!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bachelors of Some Renown

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and incidents in this fic are taken from "Friday's Child".

"What the deuce can she mean by it, Ferdy?"

The Honourable Ferdinand Fakenham regarded his friend from his seat by  
the fire. He had been comfortably settled in, with his boots off and a  
purple silk dressing-gown -- the property of his friend, Gilbert Ringwood, though he had long been used to consider it his own -- wrapped around him, when Gil had come home from the opera.

"Do you know what she did? She had that girl of hers ask me if _I_ had an opera dancer! I hardly knew where to look."

Ferdy erupted in laughter. "Oh, that's coming it too strong by half! She didn't!"

"She did! And what's more, the poor girl didn't have the least notion how improper it was. She's no more sense than a... well, than a kitten!"

"Would've been a sight more improper if you'd explained it to her. Only imagine!" The impossibility of it made him laugh anew, and he allowed himself to be diverted for some moments before noticing that Gil was anything but amused. "Oh, do stop looking like a wet fish, Gil, and come sit down."

Gil sighed, and crossed the room, stopping to pour two glasses of wine and handing one to his friend before taking a seat on the sofa beside him. "I don't suppose we can do anything about it," he said ruefully.

"Not a dashed thing," agreed Ferdy, and reached out to pull him closer.

Gil dropped his head willingly to Ferdy's shoulder, slipped off his pumps, and put his feet up. "It is rather rum, though. She makes such a racket about propriety when it comes to Kitten, but when it comes to chaps like you and me, she hasn't the slightest regard for discretion herself."

"If you say so, my dear." Ferdy had an arm draped over Gil's shoulder, and was attempting to untie his neckcloth one-handed, with little success. Gil batted his hand away pettishly.

"Look, you _must_ take it seriously. She'll get us both in hot water quicker than you can say Dick Whittington if she doesn't leave off. That stuff about me shopping for furniture with the Kitten, and being such a dab hand at interior decoration -- it's more than too much, I say. And did you see the way she came in right on Sherry's coat-tails when we were at breakfast the other day? I never had such a fright in my life."

"You should have told the servants you weren't at home to her."

"It wouldn't help," said Gil dolefully, as Ferdy returned his attentions to the knot of his neckcloth, and at last managed to untie the complex Waterfall arrangement Gil had chosen to wear that evening. "I've seen her push past Rule's butler, no less -- it would take an army."

"Well, at least you managed to fob her off with that Banbury tale about sleeping on the sofa. I never heard such fudge!"

"What else was I to say? That we'd come home late from the Castle and rogered each other senseless as soon as we got in the door?"

"Mmmm," replied Ferdy, a faraway look in his eyes. It had indeed been quite an evening, and they'd both been sitting a little gingerly at the breakfast table when his cousin, Lord Sheringham, had shown up with his bizarre request for advice on obtaining a marriage licence -- as if _they_ would know anything about such matters!

Gil's mind was still on other things, trying to recall the particular words that had been used, and he hardly noticed as Ferdy unbuttoned his waistcoat. "But she did say you'd -- _engendered an affection_ for me, didn't she?"

"Well, she did at that." Ferdy paused, frowning. "Rather blatant, come to think of it. Perhaps I should write a letter to her..."

"And have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Engendered an affection."

"What? Can't say I really know what she means by those jawbreakers half the time, to tell truth. But I _am_ dashed fond of you, old chap."

Gil sat up, clasping the hand that had slid inside his shirt and turning to look warmly at his friend. "In that case, why don't we stop talking about that blasted blue-stocking authoress, and go to bed?"


End file.
